Despicable Her
by CyborgCinderella
Summary: Its a few years on and the girls are starting to change. Tantrums and tears and words that aren't meant to be spoken. Can Gru hold his family together or will he need help to keep from falling apart?   rating might change, and OC later on, maybe romance.
1. Four little words

**so for some reason i'm writing a DM fanfic. huh.**

**i don't own Despicable me, unfortunately but did write this, so enjoy and R&R **

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><p>The school bell had rang its last for the term. The day on the calendar had been checked off. It was summer and the Gru household was crowded.<p>

The house was cluttered with hair brushes, magazines with airbrushed teens smiling from glossy pages, items of clothing that could never be found when needed and other things that Gru tripped over daily in the hallways of the house.

Like right now. He had managed to almost fall five times as he attempted to reach the sitting room of the house. He was seriously considering getting a maid.

Gru had grown into fatherhood, but lately he had noticed that the girls were...changing.

Edith and Agnes were much the same really. Apart from a slight change in height and clothes choice, Edith was still the same trouble-making, hat-lovin' tomboy that caused no end to mischief, in school and out.

Agnes was the perfect girly-girl, almost exactly the same as when Gru first adopted her. She still regularly attended dance lessons and her dolls and unicorns littered the house, though Gru had a feeling it would be one of the last years they did so.

Finally he reached the sitting room, and thankfully sank into his armchair, relishing the moment of relaxation. The sitting room itself had changed drastically in decor as Margo, in a fit of hippiness when she turned thirteen had demanded that all stuffed, dead animals, and animal furniture be removed from the house. Gru had protested, but had been worn down by Margo's persistence and tears, and finally given in, as long as she agreed that he could keep his weapon collection.

He now lounged in a high-backed, gothic style red armchair, which, although only half as intimidating as his old rhinoceros one had been, made it for in comfortableness, and non-tackiness.

Looking around the messy, almost-ordinary sitting room, he huffed, unfolding his newspaper. That maid idea was really becoming attractive. Finally relaxing properly he began to read. In forty minutes he would begin to make dinner, but until then he could relax.

Forty minutes to himself, to read, to think, to try and not worry about M-

"Margo! Vhat are yoo vearing?"Gru sat up straight in his chair, staring in shock as his oldest daughter walked into the room.

Margo stood in three-inch heels; she wore a clingy olive-green sleeveless top that was far too low for Gru's liking and a black, tight pencil skirt that was several inches too short. Her long, dark hair was loose and straightened flat as a rod and she had enough make-up on to paint a wall.

She glared at him; her heavily made up eyes seeming naked without their glasses. "I told you already, I'm going out." She said, her voice soft and threatening, her body language tense.

Gru stood up, towering over her "Und I told yoo that there would be no going out, especially not vearing dat!" he stated, gesturing to her.

She glowered, snatching up her phone from a nearby coffee table and texting furiously.

"Wearing what?" she spat "This is how I dress, so you better get used to it. I don't care what you think so I AM GOING!" she finished in a yell and stormed out the door, Gru following her angrily.

"Stop! Stop right der young ladiee! I forbeed yoo to go anyvere!" he shouted at her back as she marched down the hall, completely ignoring him.

A car beeped outside and Margo yanked open the door, stalking through and almost twisting her ankle as she crossed the lawn to the battered ford that was waiting, packed with teenagers.

Gru stopped at the door and yelled after her, knowing that now everyone in the street knew their problems.

"Young ladiee yoo are grounded! Come back 'ere right now! Is dat boys I see in dat car?" he was fed up of her complete disregard of the rules and of simple respect, both of herself and others.

"Margo, eef yoo do not come back 'ere right now, do not come back at all!" the last threat was empty, but it made Margo stop on her way to the car.

She turned, and stared, taking a deep breath. She couldn't go back now, not with her friends behind her. Stuck between a rock and a hard place Margo opened her mouth and said something instantly regrettable.

"Fuck off Gru, you're not my dad!" She screamed. The shout rang out in the suddenly silent air, and Gru stood, shocked in the doorway as he watched the car scream away in a cloud of exhaust and laughter.

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><p>Margo had changed the most, he knew. She had always been the most conservative, the one that never really trusted easily. A year or so ago she had started acting differently, more apart from the family. She read every trashy girl magazine she could, and would have violent mood swings, suddenly snapping at Gru, or her sisters.<p>

She threw tantrums like a child, and moved to her own room. She had the most clothes out of anyone in the house but screamed in the mornings about nothing to wear.

Strange devices and toiletries appeared around the house and bathrooms. Bubble bath lotions, hand creams, face creams, spot creams. Strange cotton pads that Gru really didn't want to ask the purpose of, and countless other items that involved hair of some sort.

Margo spent huge amount of times out of the house, by herself or with her "friends". Gru had never seen these people, he really didn't know them, but it was obvious the effect they were taking on Margo. He hated them all.

The relationship between Margo and Gru and really suffered since Margo had started acting like this. They argued every day, and more than once, Margo had run out of the house, to one of her "friends" often only coming back just as Gru was on the brink of calling the police, she always timed it perfectly.

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><p>But she had never said that.<p>

They had argued over worse things, for longer and more ferociously.

Yet that had rocked him to his very core.

Not once, in over four and a half years, had she said "you're not my dad"

Had it really come to this?

Has he really lost his Margo?

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><p><strong>annnnd done!<strong>

**this fanfic is a product of a insomnic night and a little idea that i had. I have an idea where i want to go with this, but i wont do a thing if a dont get reviews. I need to know what you guys think of it XD**

**so please press the button. pressssssss it. you know you want to ¬.¬ **


	2. Chapter 2

**so..to the 2 people who actually reviewed. Thank you!**

**to the rest of ye...is it really that scary to review? chicken**s

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><p>Margo glanced back as the car pulled away. Her heart clenched when she saw the lone figure in the doorway, pain and shock etched on his features.<p>

Her mouth tasted sour from the words she had said, and every fibre in her body wanted to go back and hug him, the only father she had ever known. To hold him close like she did when she was eleven, and apologise for everything she had ever done.

But that idea was laughable, she could imagine what her friends would say, and it's not like he would instantly forgive her, right? Thoughts of doubt crowded around inside her head, scrambling over one another, and Margo just couldn't deal with it. So she grabbed the bottle that was being passed around and drank, cheered on by the other occupants of the car.

The clear, strong liquid burned her throat, making her sputter and cough. It left behind a warm numbness that spread through her body, blurring her thoughts and judgement.

Just what she needed.

She sat in the packed car, pressed against the bodies of people she barely knew, laughing numbly at jokes she didn't hear.

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><p>Later, she sat by herself in a corner of the dank, abandoned house the party was in. Her friends had long wandered off, none even glancing back to see where she was, their little tag-along. Her head nodded in rhythm with the pounding techno music, and between her fingers hung a half-empty beer bottle. She had lost count of how many she had downed.<p>

Stumbling over to a suspiciously stained and moth-eaten couch she flopped onto it, feeling the springs groan in protest. She sighed and took another swig of the bitter liquid in the bottle, dimly aware of someone sitting next to her.

Hands slid around her waist and she was roughly pulled onto someone's lap. Hands explored beneath her clothes, sliding up her thighs and under the skirt that had already hitched up too far.

Her bottle fell from her hand and smashed, the sound barely heard over the music. So, of course, no one would hear her.

"mm...no, don't..." she murmured, her tongue heavy and clumsy from alcohol. "I-I don't li-mpf!" she was cut off by a set of lips colliding with her own, stubble brushing her chin.

Hands, more forcefully now, pinned her to the couch, she could feel the sticky fabric against her back, the smell of alcohol on her assailant's breath making her gag. He chuckled, his voice low and rough.

"Now, now baby doll, don't you squirm...it'll be over before you know it," he growled in her ear, a terrible, primal sound. He had a southern accent and was heavily built, easily holding her down. The room was dim, the only lighting from the neon glow sticks people were wearing around their necks and the occasional burst of strobe lighting, harsh and disorientating.

He had managed to pin her with one hand, and then Margo heard the low, unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered.

Her mind went into overdrive. "No, no! This can't be happening, this won't happen!"

The thought, clear as crystal, rang though her head. She twisted and squirmed, lashing out with her legs, doing anything she could to keep him from touching her.

Strobe lights flashed, cause harsh shadows, twisting the features of his face into a grotesque mask as he held her down, fighting against her resistance .

With a final struggle, they tumbled off the couch, landing on the equally filthy floor with a crash. Margo jumped up, chest heaving, eyes wide and frightened. Her top was ripped and her skirt twisted, but she didn't care.

Pausing only to kick her would-be-rapist across the face, Margo ran from the techno filled, filthy hell-hole.

Gru sat in the booth of the kitchen, staring at a cup of coffee long gone cold. Beside him sat a stuffed unicorn that Agnes had left with him when she went to bed, "for company".

The girls had been trying to cheer him up all evening, coming home from their grandma's early to hug him, and try to distract him. A play with her unicorns by Agnes, a series of heart-thumping, daring skateboard tricks by Edith, yet still he could not forget. Nothing they did could lift the worried look from his eyes, or stop his constant glances out the window or towards the phone.

His mother had gone looking for Margo, but after searching for hours, she returned empty handed, and had said what she always did "Those gurls need a mother!"

And so Gru was constantly reminded. He didn't get what the big deal was, he had grown up without a father, they had left Russia to get away from him. It must be different for girls, he thought. Maybe that was why they spent so much time with his mom, so they had some sort of female role model. He certainly couldn't see any other reason.

But how could he provide a mother figure for his little girls? He may let them clamber all over him, and even enjoy their hugs, but the thought of anyone else being near them, or him, made him shudder. Growing up with a stony-hearted mother, he had never felt comfortable around women and getting a mother for the girls, well it wasn't just as though he could put an ad in the paper, was it?

He sighed and gazed into the milky liquid in the cup he held, as if it would give him the answer. Standing up, he went to the sink, pouring the wasted coffee down the drain. He glanced at the clock. Half two in the morning, and once again Gru's mind filled with images of what could have happened to Margo, every possible bad thing he could imagine. And being an ex-villain, he could imagine a lot.

He never knew parenting could be like this. Difficult, yes. Frustrating, yes. But no-one ever told him it would be so heart-breaking.

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><p><strong>people, i see you. You think i cant. You alert and favorite, i can see EVERYTHING ¬.¬<strong>

**Let me ask you one thing...Y YOU NO REVIEW? **


	3. Continuing this story?

Would anyone like me to continue this story? The second movie wrapped up the whole "girls getting a mother" thing, but if you want I can continue.


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